After reading "Where the Wild Things Are" to my son for the umpteenth time, I realized that I read for him more than I do for myself. I used to have a lot of time to read for pleasure back when I bused in to work, just like I did before I became a parent. But all that free reading stopped after I continued using my car at the conclusion of the OC Transpo strike. I used to read everything from books by Hunter S Thompson and Walter Mosley, to magazines like "Wired", "Wizard", and "Maxim". I blame the latter for causing me to settle on Spencer Walker's book "Cook to Bang: The Lay Cook's Guide to Getting Laid". As much as I enjoyed the articles and pictures in the men's magazine, there's a reason I stopped reading it - I got old, and outgrew the lads' mag mentality. This book drove home the point that you can't go home again.
The premise of the book is quite obvious - the way to get into a woman’s panties is through her stomach. It starts with a history lesson of the link between food and sex, filtered through a Barney Stinson/Guy Fieri mash-up that no one was ever asking for. That's not to say that the information found inside isn't any good. I thought the section on food couplings was worthwhile (good combinations: beets and goat cheese; seafood and mango; dates and bacon), and the chapters on food aphrodisiacs and cocktails had some good recipes to try. But calling a steamed artichoke with a spicy aioli dish 'Don't Artichoke Your Chicken' doesn't make me want to either cook it, eat it, or give it to someone I want to do it with. And no matter how many histamines asparagus has to "rev up the power of an orgasm", there's no need to call something 'Tap That Ass-paragus Soup", especially if you plan to put it in your own or someone else's mouth. The dating advice is more of the same. While friends of "Andrew in Charlotte" may no longer think he's gay after his reading of "Cook to Bang", and the boyfriend of "Madeline in Los Angeles" went all sex crazy after breakfast when she tried the recipes, your success may vary. With suggestions like serving jalapeno poppers to church-goers, and brie and crackers to power yuppies, and ways to identify club sluts and dance floor D-bags, maybe my single brother-in-law would have gotten more out of the sexual profiling chapter than I did.
I can't say I would recommend this book to anyone, unless as a gag gift. While there's some interesting stuff to be found in this book, the horny teenager vibe makes it hard to read or to take seriously. Maybe I expected more from an author who's worked as both a sous-chef and a private chef. As a married man, maybe I just don't "get it" as I wasn't the target audience for this book. While the recipes may save you from spending money at a 4-star restaurant in your quest to get in dat ass, there’s a reason no one asks Gordon Ramsey for dating advice.
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